


Keep you safe from myself

by Lawless_bard



Series: Anything for you... [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: (not from a Merlin character), Bingo Fill, F/F, Go team knights!, Kinkalot 2020, Pining, Secrets, Sexual Harassment, Sexy Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:48:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26238868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lawless_bard/pseuds/Lawless_bard
Summary: Written for Kinkalot 2020. Bingo fill: SecretsMorgana watched in the mirror as two pink dots appeared high on her cheeks. She thought of those moments of being seen, no one else saw her like that, she wouldn’t let them. She brought her fingertips to her face and poked at the blush gently. Then her mind wandered, and she let it because it was soothing to think of those hands on her, and it made her forget about her dreams, and also the rough slimy hands that had grabbed at her earlier that day.
Relationships: Gwen/Morgana (Merlin)
Series: Anything for you... [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905931
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17
Collections: Kinkalot 2020





	Keep you safe from myself

Morgana thrashed her limbs, her long hair splayed out across her pillow and face, tangling around her neck, threatening to strangle her. Finally, she gasped awake, heart beating tumultuously, breaths coming short and fast. She sat up abruptly, calling out – but why and to whom? No-one was there, she was alone, as usual. She glanced around the room and startled herself again as she caught sight of her pale face in the looking glass over her dresser. She took some deep steadying breaths, remembering Gwen’s calming words from earlier that day. “Just breathe my lady, that’s all you need to do. Everything else will wait.” Morgana had been furious during the banquet after not one but two occasions where roaming hands found their way onto her person. The first time it happened, the hands had belonged to a steward of the visiting king. Uther had glared at furiously and shot eyes at a nearby guard who immediately drew his sword. Morgana had grimaced a smile to King Uther, embarrassed but acknowledging his presence and protection of her. However, when the second man made his unwelcome advances, Uther had merely glanced away, clearly considering the drunken hands of Prince Æthelfrith to be ‘harmless’. Of course, it was fine when a so-called ‘noble’ touched her, but when it was the hands of some ‘peasant’ then that was when it was a crime. That was when she was worth protecting, or rather her _honour_ was. The bastards. She had barely been able to sit through the rest of the meal. It was only once she was back in the peace of her personal chambers that she felt any better, and it was Gwen’s gentle voice that had brought her out of her seething rage.

The bed was sweaty and strewn with stray pieces of her hair, her body was clammy and aching from thrashing at the covers. She stretched wearily, knowing it would be some time before sleep would claim her again, and Morgana wondered if she even wanted to sleep anymore. Gaius’ remedies seemed to do nothing for her dreams, they only pulled her into sleep further and allowed the dreams to last longer. Not only that but the medicine made her drowsy during the daytime – and she preferred to be sharp. She had to be, it was becoming more and more obvious that her life depended on it. On more than one occasion she had almost let slip the exact content of her dreams and their prophetic nature, and although King Uther claimed to love her, Morgana knew he was ruthless when it came to the laws on magic.

She tried to shake the vivid vision from her mind, a vision that spoke of an enemy hiding amongst her friends, of fire and of death. “No use to dwell on it,” she told herself, “that’s what Gwen would say.” So instead, she kicked the covers down and climbed out of bed. She moved over to the mirror and stared at herself. “Well, no noble or peasant would want me now!” She smiled at her reflection in satisfaction, but then her mind turned to Gwen. What would she see? Morgana knew she was beautiful. Every lecherous lord told her so, but was that true now? When her skin looked almost blue? When she had dark smudges under her eyes? When her hair looked like ravens had made a nest in it from their own mangled feathers? It doesn’t matter how beautiful I am, she thought in despair, what should matter is being good and hardworking and not tainted like she was. So unlike her friend, Gwen. She who was pure, and light and loving. Her sympathetic eyes would look her up and down and know that Morgana had not slept again – and she would sit and talk to her, about nothing and anything, just to keep her company; sewing her gowns or fixing something with her beautiful brown hands. Hands that were as steady and soothing as her voice. Hands that lifted and adjusted and soothed as she dressed her.

Morgana watched in the mirror as two pink dots appeared high on her cheeks. She thought of those moments of being seen, no one else saw her like that, she wouldn’t let them. She brought her fingertips to her face and poked at the blush gently. Then her mind wandered, and she let it because it was soothing to think of those hands on her, and it made her forget about her dreams, and also those other rough slimy hands that had grabbed at her earlier that day. The lovelier thoughts filled her, thoughts that she kept at bay during the day, that she definitely didn’t allow herself to have when Gwen dressed or bathed her. Morgana always tried desperately hard to keep Gwen talking during those moments, so that she would be distracted, so that she wouldn’t have to think about her servant’s soft golden-brown skin brushing against her own. But Gwen would only hum in agreement with her, always remaining frustratingly quiet during those times. Morgana wondered if it was because her clothes were so fussy and difficult, and Gwen simply needed to concentrate. Yes, that was most likely it, not because she was looking… But oh God did Morgana want her to look – and not only that, she wanted her to touch, and stroke and caress.

She brought her own hands to her lips, imagining a tender kiss, trailed them down her neck and down to cup her breasts. Pulling slightly at the nipples, first through the thin silk of her nightgown, and then unlacing it to continue to stroke and rub until they were stiff and sensitive. She tilted her head to the side, watching her own hand pull up the silk as she parted her thighs and dipped a single fingertip to the soft wet flesh there.

I could tell her, she thought wildly. I could tell her I wanted her, and she might… she might… No, she would not burden her lovely Gwen with these thoughts and wants. It was just another secret for her to hold onto, and she was good at doing that. Anything for the sake of an easier life, God knew it was already difficult enough just being female, and moreover anything for Gwen, to keep her safe from Morgana’s secrets, safe from her treasonous dreams and treacherous heart.


End file.
